


honey, I can read you like a book

by maggneto



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bickering, Bisexual Sam Wilson, Captain America Sam Wilson, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23737717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggneto/pseuds/maggneto
Summary: When a team of government agents take over Bucky Barnes’ bookstore one day, he is determined to get rid of them by any means necessary. Will he succeed in kicking out the irritatingly hot agent or will his stay be extended?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 120





	honey, I can read you like a book

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very belated gift for my friend Jakob. Thank you for everything and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> In this universe the Winter Solider never existed, Shield never fell, and Steve Rogers is retired.

_Well, today is fucked._

Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at the obnoxious amount of people currently invading his quiet, perfectly peaceful bookstore. The day had been going well, he thought. His hair had cooperated into a halfway decent half bun, the high school kid he had hired recently was on time for once, and they had a pretty decent crowd for a Monday. 

He was even able to pick up a dozen doughnuts from his favorite bakery down the street. The sugary sweet dough and the smell of his first batch of coffee filled the space of his small store, lingering with the scent of books old and new. He had stared out the floor to ceiling windows of his shop, a little foggy from the rain, and basked in the quiet like a cat in a sunbeam. 

That was until six different people wearing suits and, inexplicably, _sunglasses_ burst into his shop, waving badges in his face and sweeping the room like an episode of _NCIS._ They swept the store from front to back, weaving between bookshelves and scanning the area behind the front desk. Bucky had just stared helplessly, mouth gaping at the absolute _audacity_ of these people. 

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing his laptop out of the nearest person’s hand. They just turned around and continued rifling through stacks of paper. “Give me that! What the hell is going on?” 

“Mr. Barnes,” someone behind him said, rather pleasantly given the current situation. He turned and found himself face to face with another idiot in sunglasses, this one significantly closer to him and, _oh_ , significantly hotter. He was tall–at least a few inches taller than Bucky–with dark skin and an easy smile. He wasn’t in a suit like the rest of his _comrades_ ; he wore dark grey chinos and a deep green bomber jacket over a simple black t-shirt. Bucky was still boiling with righteous indignation but he could take a moment to appreciate the guy in front of him. He wasn’t unreasonable. 

But after a few seconds too many, he realized his mouth was still open and he hadn’t said a word. “Uh,” was his brilliant start, “yeah? Who are you? How do you know my name? And what the hell are you doing here?” He quickly snapped out of his momentary adonis-induced-stupor.

The man smiled at him, clearly amused. “My name is Sam. I’m with SHIELD. We’ll be taking over your place of business for the day. Would you like to step to the back to talk?” He asked, gesturing to the storage room in the back of the store. 

“No I would not like to _step to the back,_ ” Bucky said, absolutely livid. “Who do you think you are, walking in here like you own the place, giving me no explanation except for _we’re taking over your business today_?” 

Sam smiled again, tersely this time, and again gestured behind Bucky. “I’d be happy to explain everything to you, Mr. Barnes, if you’d like to head to a more private location.”

Bucky glared up at him. He had never heard of SHIELD before, but this was clearly some kind of government organization. He had seen _Homeland_ something or other on one of the agent’s badges so he assumed they would be happy to bulldoze anyone in their way and break more than a few laws doing it. But Bucky wasn’t one to take these things sitting down and, frankly, he didn’t have much to lose. So he glared at this _Sam_ in front of him and crossed his arms over his chest. “No, I’m good. You can explain everything right here.”

Sam stared at him for a moment, surprise coloring his features before he pursed his lips and huffed out a short breath, frustration beginning to show. Bucky smiled inside his head. “Alright, fine. We’re a government organization responsible for matters of national security. We’ve detected a threat in this area and we have reason to believe our targets were, or will be, in this area. We’ve elected to use your store as a home base of sorts, while we work out where to go next.” Bucky’s eyes had been widening throughout Sam’s little speech and now his eyebrows drew together and his mouth opened, clearly ready to fight. “And–” Sam rushed to add, holding out his hands consolingly, “–we’re really hoping you’ll be able to help us out by letting us stay.”

Bucky gaped at Sam. “Absolutely not!” He didn’t care how hot this guy was, he wasn’t letting the _government_ of all things, walk in and take over his store. Who knows when they would decide to leave and what state would they leave him in. 

“Mr. Barnes,” Sam started. “The only establishments nearby are the school and day care across the street and the takeout deli next door. Hardly a place for a stakeout, don’t you think? Your store is quiet, with great visibility and it’s reasonable for people to spend a lot of time here.”

Bucky glared over Sam’s shoulder, thinking. He didn’t know what to say to that. “And what makes you so sure I’m not involved in this terrorist threat? You’re just gonna tell me your whole plan right here?” Okay, so maybe Bucky really was an idiot. 

Sam’s smile went crooked at the end. “We fully vetted you before we considered this location, James. With all due respect sir, you’re not a threat.”

_How dare this guy._ Bucky could be a threat if he wanted to. He could be very threatening. The government can’t know everything a guy gets up to in his private life, or at least, _god_ he hoped not. 

Sam could see the fire building behind Bucky’s eyes so he quickly added, “Not that you couldn’t be. But from what we found, we have nothing to worry about.” His eyes were weirdly kind and reassuring, despite Bucky’s best attempts at being an asshole. “Plus,” he added, smiling apologetically, “we _do_ have the right to stay, even if you refuse us. We just don’t like to be unwelcome guests.”

Bucky’s face fell. “So I have no choice in the matter at all?”

“Well–” Sam started before he was cut off. 

“Captain,” one of the agents called from across the room. Sam went to look at the screen of the tablet the agent was showing him and they spoke quietly for a few moments. Bucky glared at the agent next to him when they smiled at him consolingly. 

“Right,” Sam said, walking back to the front counter, “we’ve confirmed that the individuals we’re looking for have been here at some point in the past few days. We’re going to need all the security footage and credit card receipts you have for the past week.”

“Security footage?” Bucky asked in disbelief. “What kind of place do you think this is?” Sam stared at him blankly. “Look around, bud. I can’t afford that.” Sam glanced around the small bookshop filled with mismatched furniture and thrift store artwork. Stacks of books littered every side table and the small espresso station at the front desk sputtered and whined, clearly on its last leg. “And I’m happy to give you the receipts but most people pay in cash.”

Sam looked around the store, resigned. “That would be great, Mr. Barnes.” 

Bucky sighed. This guy was making it really hard to be an asshole. He had a commanding presence about him with broad shoulders and a deep voice and he looked like he could snap Bucky in half with the flick of a wrist. But his eyes were kind and his expression inexplicably soft and Bucky knew, somehow, that he wasn't going to hurt him. He was here to help. Bucky rolled his eyes, annoyed at the entire situation but especially because this guy had taken away his ability to be an unforgiving asshole. “Might as well make yourself at home if you're gonna be here for awhile.”

The soft lips he couldn't quit looking at quirked up in a relieved smile, the deep voice murmured, “thank you, Mr. Barnes,” and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest.

The thing was, Bucky had every right to be mad. His place of business–his livelihood–had been taken over by the government and he was surrounded by federal agents. He couldn’t tell them to leave and he had to accommodate their every request. He had every right to be a dick and take his sweet time fulfilling their requests because he didn’t ask for any of this. It was, at best, imposing, and, at worst, downright hostile. 

The problem with that was that they turned out to be infuriatingly nice. 

A couple agents stayed for most of the morning, walking through the bookstore casually, monitoring the exits and street corners outside. They were a constant presence. But they opened the door for customers and helped people reach books on higher shelves and helped Bucky carry boxes in from the back. They were too helpful for Bucky to be mad at them. Plus, he found out he got compensated for every day they were in his store and the amount was, frankly, more than he usually made in a week so he had decided to stay quiet about the whole affair. 

The worst of all, though, had been Sam. He clearly set the tone amongst the agents he was leading and he made sure they were respectful and blended in as much as possible. He checked in with Bucky throughout the day to update him on progress and see if he could do anything to help. _If he could do anything to help._ Bucky couldn’t believe this guy. You crash a guy’s business and then do so much for him he can’t even complain. 

Bucky would’ve been able to cope with all of this--really, he would’ve–-if Sam wasn’t so... _Sam._

His attractiveness hadn’t diminished in the slightest, much to Bucky’s dismay. He paid Bucky an inordinate amount of attention and Bucky’s sour looks and cold shoulder did nothing to deter him. 

“So James,” Sam said easily, facing Bucky at the counter, “are you from here?”

Bucky stared at him with a blank expression until Sam’s eyebrow quirked in question. Bucky leaned around his large frame to glance at the letters on the front windows, clearly spelling out _Brooklyn Born and Raised: Coffee & Books_. His eyes met Sam’s and he pursed his lips. “Yep.”

Sam smiled at his own slip-up. “And you like to read?”

Bucky looked to his left, then his right at the piles of books surrounding him. “Yep.”

“Just trying to kill a little time, James. Breaks up the monotony of the job, you know?”

“Not my job,” Bucky said curtly. “Also not my name,” he added, glancing down at his nametag that very clearly said _Bucky._

Sam laughed, looking down and shaking his head with chagrin. “Looks like I need to work on my reading skills.”

“Looks like you’re in the right place.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, “looks like I am,” and the smirk he gave him as he trailed his eyes slowly down Bucky’s frame shot a thrill through Bucky so fast he felt lightheaded. 

Oh, _that’s how it is_ , huh? 

While Bucky was excited by the sudden development, he was committed to his cold shoulder act, as anyone in his position would be. So he schooled his face and stared at Sam blankly. “Anything I can help you with, Sam?”

Sam’s smile didn’t fade as he looked back into Bucky’s eyes. “Yes, actually. I was looking for some book recommendations.”

Bucky blinked in surprise. “Don’t you have work to do?” _Something to get you out of here?_ he thought to himself.

“Nah, we’re just waiting for now. Thought I’d kill time some other way since the owner of this shop is a real grump.”

“Hilarious.”

“Thank you, I just finished a tour of stand up. What do you think of my routine?”

“You could use some more charisma.”

“Oh but I think we both know I have plenty of that, don’t we?” Sam said, through a truly deadly smirk. 

“ _The Picture of Dorian Gray_.”

“What?” Sam asked, surprised for once.

Bucky smirked. “A book recommendation. It’s about a narcissist obsessed with his own beauty.”

Sam’s lips tilted up at one corner. “So you think I’m beautiful?”

“Oh my god,” Bucky groaned as he rolled his eyes. This guy was _insufferable._

“Alright, I’ll give it a try,” Sam said consolingly. He tapped on the counter twice as he walked away. “See you around, _Bucky_.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” Bucky said, then added quietly, “unfortunately.”

_Sure, Barnes._ He could’ve sworn he heard Sam reply but it was too quiet to tell. Whatever. He had better things to do. 

Those better things turned out to be trying his damndest to ignore Sam for the rest of the day. He had this tendency to catch Bucky every time he was staring at him. It was like he had a sixth sense. He would look up to find Bucky staring at him from across the room or behind a display of new books and his eyebrows would quirk up and his mouth would turn into a knowing grin. Bucky didn’t need to think about how many times this had happened and how many times he had blushed today. The two were not related, not at all. 

It was early afternoon and Bucky had been thinking about his predicament for far too long. He didn’t want to admit how much of his day had been consumed by Sam. He had things to do, okay? He was a busy man. He stood behind the front desk, reviewing purchase orders and balancing the books. He shoved the stubborn hair that refused to stay a part of his bun back behind his ear. Thankfully he had chosen the softest sweater he owned for today and he pulled the sleeves over his hands as he fought with a spreadsheet. He took a sip of his afternoon coffee and appreciated the soft hum of quiet music in the store mixing with the sound of the city outside. He realized that his surroundings were far too peaceful for him to be so frustrated today. He decided that this had gone on long enough and it was time to do something about it, one way or another. He grabbed the box of doughnuts from that morning and marched determinedly across the store.

Sam’s eyes darted up as Bucky stomped closer. One eyebrow rose in question and it was stupid how adorable it was. 

Sam was sitting in a soft, brown leather chair nestled in between two bookshelves that leaned back just enough to put you to sleep after a good read. Bucky knew from experience. His legs were spread wide in front of him and he had a copy of (what else?) _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ hanging loosely from his hands. Bucky stopped in front of Sam’s feet. 

“Can I help you James?” Sam asked cheekily.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “It’s Bucky. And I was wondering how things were going. When you were planning on leaving.”

“Things are going great,” Sam said with a simple smile. 

Bucky just stared at him. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“Well I can’t give you our entire plan, can I? Like you said, you could be a part of this terrorist organization.”

“You know, you don’t seem to be getting much work done there,” Bucky replied, ignoring his jab and looking pointedly at the book in Sam’s hands. “A lot more reading than, you know, spying.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about my skills in espionage.”

“One of us has to.”

“Ouch, Barnes.”

“My name is Bucky.”

“You just have so many names. I want to try ‘em all out while I’m here. See how they feel on my tongue” Sam grinned up at him and Bucky could see the hint of a dimple at the corner of his cheek. He ignored it. “I’m not sure why you settled on ‘Bucky’ though, it’s definitely the weirdest choice.”

“My sister gave me that nickname.”

“Tell her to ask for help before she goes around naming anyone else.”

Bucky stopped his mouth from falling open in surprise. “I’ll tell her to make sure and get input from people with truly original names like _Sam._ ”

“You do that.”

“What’s the rest of it?” Bucky asked, knowing a smirk had made its way onto his face. At that, Sam stood from his chair and took a small step towards Bucky. Bucky tried–and failed–to ignore the way his stomach flipped.

“The rest of what?”

“Your _name,_ agent.”

“It’s Captain,” Sam corrected him, though there was a playfulness behind his eyes. “And my name is Sam. Thought you would’ve gotten that by now Bucky,” Sam added through a grin. 

“Your last name, _Captain.”_ Bucky ignored the thrill that shot through him at using the official title. 

“Just Sam,” Sam said with a smirk. 

“Your name is Sam Just Sam?”

“To you, my name is Sam.”

“Wow,” Bucky said, deadpan. “Really committing to this whole undercover thing aren’t you? No one would guess you aren’t who you say you are.”

“No one would guess you’re in customer service either,” Sam shot through a toothy grin. 

Bucky gaped. This guy didn’t hold back and _god_ if Bucky didn't love it. But he knew himself and he knew he often took these things too far, especially once they had gotten to this point of friendly, or not so friendly, ribbing. So he shook his head and thrust the box of doughnuts out in front of him. “Here.”

“What’s that?”

“A peace offering.” 

Sam stared down at the box before taking a step closer and looking down at Bucky with a shit eating grin. “I don’t know, Bucky. You’ve already been so sweet to me all day. I wouldn't want to go into a sugar coma.” 

Oh this absolute _cheeky bastard,_ Bucky thought. Not only was that the cheesiest line he’d ever heard but it was actually _working_ on him. He was fairly certain the obtrusive government agent was flirting with him and he was much more certain that he liked every second of it. So he decided to play along. 

“Well then,” he said as he took a step back, “we’ll have to cut you off then won't we?” 

Sam eyed him for a moment, clearly not expecting this. “I guess we will.”

“If you start missing some of this sweetness–” Bucky said, backing away with a smirk and a small bite to the inside of his lip, “–you know where to find me.”

Sam tried to hold in his reaction but Bucky could see it all over his face. It thrilled Bucky to know that as much as this man affected him, he was clearly enjoying this just as much as Bucky was. Sam smiled, slid his hands in his pockets, and straightened his shoulders. “I certainly do.” 

Bucky didn't expect Sam to stay as long as he did. He left Bucky the first day with a promise to return and a glance over his shoulder as Bucky climbed the stairs to his apartment above the shop. The next day he came back alone; apparently the job’s risk level had been lowered and only required one agent. Bucky didn't ask if he had volunteered to be the one to stay. 

So for the rest of the week Sam spent his days loitering around Bucky's shop and Bucky spent his days pretending to be mad about it. Sam read constantly. He monitored people coming in and out. He helped customers when he could. He napped more often than he would admit. 

More than anything though, he watched Bucky. Bucky could feel Sam’s eyes on the back of his head all day, but every time he looked over to try to catch him in the act, his eyes were already back on his book. It had become some kind of weird competition of Bucky’s to finally catch Sam staring. Was he proud of the way that he won? Not entirely. But did wearing a cropped sweater that rode up as he stacked books on the highest shelf work? Absolutely. He found Sam’s eyes on the patch of skin showing at his hip and he smirked until he could practically feel Sam getting warm from embarrassment. 

They had developed a weirdly graceful routine with one another. They chatted in the mornings after Bucky made them both coffee. Bucky dealt with the first round of customers while Sam went back to his “surveillance”. _More like surveilling the back of his eyelids,_ Bucky thought. By the time lunch rolled around Sam had usually finished whatever book he was reading so Bucky brought him a new one, perfectly curated for him.

The first day Bucky brought him a spy thriller, packed full with espionage and duplicitous detectives. “For research,” Bucky said through a smirk. 

“Are you telling me I'm bad at my job?” Sam asked with a grin. 

“I think I've made that pretty clear.”

“I don't know Bucky,” Sam said, rising to his feet to stand in front of him. “The point of espionage is to not reveal things about yourself. How much do you know about me?” He was close now and Bucky could smell the heady, musky scent of his cologne. He could clearly see the hair forming the goatee around his mouth. He wanted to know what it felt like against his skin. 

He looked him right in the eye as he said, “Enough.”

Sam stepped closer. They still weren't touching but Bucky could feel the rise and fall of the other man’s chest as if it were his own. He could feel small breaths on his face and he wanted to reach out and _touch._

“Are you sure?” Sam's voice was just so _deep,_ Bucky could feel it rumbling through his heart like a train storming into the station. 

Bucky opened his mouth but could only suck in a breath. He was stuck, frozen in place by the knowledge that Sam could lean a few inches closer at any moment and their lips would touch. He knew he felt something between them. He wasn't an idiot. But whether or not Sam would cross this line while technically on the job remained to be seen. He exhaled, slowly and precisely and said, as casually as he could manage, “yeah I'm sure.”

Sam didn't move. Bucky expected him to move–to back away with a laugh or a scoff, or to lean in and take what he had been asking for without words for two days now–but he didn't. He just stood there, staring with that infuriating smirk. Yet another battle; fought and won in nothing but glances from brown eyes to grey. 

The next day Bucky handed him Moby Dick. 

“Got some kind of nautical interest I don’t know about, Barnes?”

“It’s about a man with an unhealthy obsession. Chasing something he desperately wants. I thought you could relate.”

“I thought it was about a whale.”

A challenge, as always. 

“You thought wrong.”

“There’s a whale on the cover.”

“It’s called a metaphor, Captain.”

“Well, you would know all about those, wouldn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bucky’s pulse picked up but he tried not to show it. Sam was still sitting, stretched out, casual as ever. Bucky knew he was doing it just to aggravate him and, yes, it was working, but it was also making him feel...things. 

“Just that you know how to talk without ever saying what you really mean.”

Bucky chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry I think you’ve cornered the market on that.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right. You haven’t said one honest thing since you walked in that door.”

“Well let me start right now then,” Sam said as he sat up in the chair and leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees and his face was calm and confident. “You're beautiful.”

A burst of fire shot through Bucky's chest and landed on his face, hot and red. His heart beat loudly in his chest but he stood still, trying, and failing, to maintain his composure. He wasn't sure what was happening. Being called beautiful was nothing new to him. He knew how good he looked, humble as he was. But this guy–this sarcastic, overbearing, adorably attractive guy–somehow always knew how to surprise him. This was a new technique, a new strategy in their never ending duel. To be completely, blatantly honest. To twist around Bucky's insides with his barefaced emotion. 

Sam just sat there, staring at him as if he could see the dumpster fire currently happening in his brain. 

“Your turn,” Sam said, deep and resounding in the quiet of the store. 

“Take me out,” Bucky said confidently. If Sam thought he could be the only brazen one in the bookstore, he had another thing coming. 

“Are you asking or telling?” 

“Well, if we wait around for you to do it it'll take longer than it took Captain Ahab to find the stupid whale.”

“You haven't read this book, have you?” Sam asked through a smirk. 

Bucky's lips twisted in irritation. “My point still stands.”

“Alright Bucky Barnes, I’ll take you out.” The air of confidence and ease did nothing but rile Bucky up further and his stomach jumped in anticipation. “Friday night.” 

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Better be somewhere nice.”

“Oh, you don't have to worry about that.”

\---

“This is what you call nice?”

“Calm down we’re not there yet,” Sam said through a laugh. They had been walking for 20 minutes so far and were now cutting through some back alley filled with trash and grime. 

“God, I should've known you wouldn't take this seriously. When have you ever taken anything seriously in your life?”

“Bucky.” 

“Or is this supposed to be like a new-age date? Ambient lighting, rustic feel, eating amongst the rats. What else could a guy hope for?”

“Bucky.”

“You're probably taking me down one of these alleys to kill me. Get me out of the way for your master plan to take over all the bookstores in New York.”

“ _Bucky_!”

“What!”

“You're rambling.”

“No I'm not. I'm filling the silence so we can't hear all the shady deals going down in this back alley. Don't wanna be a witness.”

“Oh my god.”

“What? You won't even tell me your last name. They warn people about guys like you.”

That earned Bucky a smirk. “Honey, you don't know any guys like me.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and groaned. “What a line! Do you have these written down somewhere?” Bucky searched around Sam’s body and patted down his pockets with a grin. Sam laughed, big and boisterous, knocking Bucky's hip with his as they walked. 

“You wish! I'm just that good,” Sam said through his laughs. 

Eventually, they made it out of the dark alley and back onto the street. Bucky found himself following Sam through a neighborhood he’d never visited, despite all his years in the city. The aging buildings still retained some charm and people milled about, chatting in front of delis or walking their dogs in the cool evening air. 

Soon, they rounded a corner and Sam stopped in front of a quaint little restaurant, old and a little rundown but charming nonetheless with the most delicious smell drifting from the doorway. The sign promised pho and other Vietnamese specialties and Bucky knew he had made the right call in letting Sam pick the place, despite all his earlier bitching. 

Sam led them inside to a table tucked away in a corner by the front window and Bucky tried not to focus on the hand on the small of his back. 

The place was small and quiet but exuded a warmth and comfort that Bucky found instantly appealing. They sat in aging plastic covered chairs and held menus with hand written notes in the margins and Bucky couldn't stop the smile he sent Sam across the table. 

“I hope this is okay,” Sam said, uncharacteristically quiet. 

“It's perfect, Sam.”

Sam greeted the waiter like an old friend and started to order what Bucky could tell was a massive amount of food before stopping mid sentence to look at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. Bucky nodded at him, encouraging Sam to order for them both. He wasn't picky and Sam clearly knew what he was doing here. When the waiter left Bucky gave him a curious look. 

“My sister and brother in-law own the place,” he said with a shrug. 

“Then I guess I can trust your judgment,” Bucky said with a grin.

Sam’s smile matched his as he said, “You look great tonight, Bucky.”

Bucky could feel his cheeks heat up as he looked down compulsively. For all his confidence he still couldn’t take a compliment. He knew he looked good in his favorite black jeans that hugged his ass just right but it felt different when someone pointed it out. “Thank you, so do you,” he said quietly. It was easier to compliment Sam, who looked absolutely delicious in dark jeans and a sweater that his biceps were practically ripping apart. 

“So where are you from?” Bucky asked, sipping his water and watching Sam from under his eyelashes. 

“D.C.,” Sam replied. “But most of my family has moved to the city by now.”

“Do you just have one sibling?”

“Three. We’re a pretty big family. But it’s my nephews that keep me busy.” He pulled out his phone to proudly show Bucky a picture of two boys hanging from Sam’s arms with mega-watt smiles on their face. The kids were cute but Bucky was entirely too focused on who was holding them. “What about you?”

They talked for the rest of the evening about their families and friends, their favorite foods and least favorite music. They talked about their jobs–Sam much more vaguely than Bucky–and they talked about the city. The food was remarkably good, the wine even better, and as their stomachs filled, trepidation faded away and the night pressed on. Their conversation grew and changed but Sam never wavered. His eyes–his beautiful deep brown eyes–stayed stuck on Bucky’s all night long. He was not only listening to what Bucky had to say but he was interested. He leaned in to hear each of Bucky’s stories, laughed earnestly at all of his jokes, and when Bucky’s hand rested hesitantly on the table, he grasped it softly in his own. The tips of his fingers traced Bucky’s palm and Bucky’s heart nearly tripped over itself. 

“Am I boring you?”

“What?” Bucky blinked, looking away from Sam’s face in confusion. “Of course not, why would you say that?”

They had been talking for some time–hours, maybe minutes–Bucky wasn’t sure. He had lost all sense of the world around him. The food and the wine had long since disappeared but the night had lingered, long and sweet. 

“Because I just mentioned my hatred of classic literature and you didn’t even call me an idiot.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He had tried to focus on more than the deep hum of Sam’s voice all evening but Sam’s cologne had been drifting to his side of the table and he couldn’t be blamed for the state it put him in. “Sorry, I just got distracted.”

“By my beautiful eyes?”

Bucky bit his cheeks to hide his smile. _Oh, how right he was._ Bucky only hoped he didn’t know it. He rolled his eyes. “I knew you were kidding, anyway.”

“Not kidding.”

“Then just wrong. Not worth arguing over.”

“That sounds like something someone would say if they were going to lose an argument.”

“I’ve been told not to argue on the first date. Doesn’t come off well.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart I don’t mind.”

“Well, you are the most contentious man I’ve ever met so that doesn’t really surprise me.”

“You haven’t stopped arguing with me all week. If either of us enjoys it, it’s you.”

“Trust me, I know exactly what I enjoy.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose and his smirk twisted into an enticing crooked smile. “Mind sharing that with me?”

Bucky’s smile felt intimate and personal. The kind meant for one other person. The person who would know without hesitation what it meant. “I will. When the time is right.”

Sam nodded, not breaking eye contact. “I look forward to that.”

Bucky was startled out of the grip of Sam’s eyes when the server appeared to tell them they were closing. Sam grabbed the bill before Bucky could even blink and shot Bucky an easy smile. In a daze Bucky gathered their leftovers and Sam helped him into his jacket. The ease with which Sam draped his arm around Bucky’s waist surprised him. This man was as confident as any Bucky had known and that only made Bucky want him more. 

They stepped out into the evening air, which had cooled in the time they were away. Bucky felt as though the world had just missed something crucial. The street outside looked the same but Bucky could feel the shift of the Earth that had just taken place and he felt the need to tell someone about it. Instead, he felt the hand on his waist slide from his hip to the small of his back. He turned toward the face that was now much closer than before and held his breath as Sam started to speak.

“I had a great time with you tonight, Bucky.” He said it deeply and sincerely and Bucky could barely nod. 

“Me too.”

“We could head back now,” he said slowly and for the first time, hesitantly, “or…”

Bucky could see Sam’s lips twitch as he wavered on the next word. They were close, so close. He could feel Sam’s breath on his face. He could barely speak above a whisper when he said, “Or?”

“Or I was hoping I could…” Sam tilted his head and Bucky’s heart took off, racing from one side of his chest to the other. He watched Sam wet his lips and he leaned forward, close, ever so close, until finally their lips touched. The kiss was warm and unbelievably soft and their lips moved together like they had been made just for this. Bucky’s chest ignited in a burst of flames as he gripped onto Sam’s shirt and pulled him closer. He felt the soft touch of Sam’s palm on his check and his breath hitched uncontrollably. 

Eventually Sam pulled away, leaving barely an inch of space between them. His hand rested in the curve of Bucky’s neck and they breathed heavy and full as they stared at each other. “I think you should walk me home,” Bucky finally said, trying and failing to get his breathing under control.

Sam smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bucky returned his smile and leaned in for another kiss, brief but ardent.

And so they went, weaving through the streets of Brooklyn, holding hands or waists or necks as they stopped to kiss in empty doorways and down back alleys. They giggled like school kids, teasing each other as they were pulled around street corners or stumbled as they tried to keep up. Bucky’s hands found their way underneath Sam’s sweater more than once and he had to stop the moan at the miles of muscle and soft skin he found there. Sam liked to thread his hands so thoroughly in Bucky’s hair as they made out that they would have to untangle him before they kept walking, laughing as they went. They were carefree and easy; elated as they walked hand in hand, hearts all over their sleeves, down busy streets in the biggest city in the world, somehow still completely alone. It was an ethereal kind of happiness. 

Sam’s phone rang while they were walking but he ignored it, muting it as he pressed Bucky against the nearest wall to trail kisses up and down his neck. They teased each other about everything they could think of, making dumb jokes and laughing way too loudly in the quiet air. 

By the time they made it back to Bucky’s block, they were out of breath from either kissing or laughing Bucky wasn’t sure. Bucky didn’t let go of Sam’s hand as they neared the shop and Sam glanced at him shyly and sweetly. Just as Bucky was working up the nerve to ask Sam to stay, Sam’s phone rang again. 

Sam rolled his eyes before fishing it out of his pocket. 

“I hope you’re turning that thing off.”

“Oh, you bet your--” Sam stopped suddenly as he read something on the screen. “Shit.”

“What?” Bucky asked, suddenly unsure. 

“Shit.” Sam repeated. “ _Shit.”_

“What's going on?”

“Bucky,” Sam said, suddenly meeting Bucky’s eyes and looking completely stricken. “ _Please_ tell me we can reschedule this.”

“What? What do you mean?” Bucky asked, utterly confused. 

“I mean I've gotta go.”

“ _What?”_

“Yeah. And I would love, _trust me,_ I would love to continue what I think was about to happen right now but it's an emergency and I've really got to go.”

“I--” Bucky started, stumbling to find the words. He couldn't figure out if Sam was serious or if he was even being honest but his eyes were sincere and pleading so Bucky did what his gut told him. “Yeah, okay. Let's reschedule. Is everything alright?”

“Um,” Sam started, before turning towards the door of the shop and trying the handle. When he realized it was locked he turned towards Bucky. “Yeah. Everything's fine. Or it will be,” he added quickly. “Can you open this?”

“I--yeah sure,” Bucky said, fumbling as he fished the keys out of his pocket. As soon as he opened the door, Sam rushed past him to the back of the store. Bucky followed him, completely lost, and found him letting himself into the storage room behind Bucky's office. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry, one sec, just gotta--” he pushed a few boxes out of the way and appeared holding a massive round leather case of some kind. “I really didn't want to do this today. Like _really_ didn't want to. And we were having such a good time, I _really_ like you by the way, Bucky. I just want you to know that.”

“Sam what the fuck is going on?”

“Right. Sorry.” Sam took a deep breath before he reached down and unzipped the case, pulling out a--

“ _What?”_

“Yeah.”

“Sam.”

Sam’s face scrunched up just the slightest, preparing for the worst. “Yeah?”

“Why do you have a replica of Captain America’s shield in my closet?”

Sam stared at him blankly. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You really are an idiot.”

“ _What?_ No I'm not I just don't--” he stopped both breathing and talking because suddenly it clicked, suddenly it all made sense and yes, _of course_ he really was an idiot. The secret government agent. Won't reveal his last name. Tall as a skyscraper, muscles bigger than Bucky's head. Used to be in the air force. Named _Sam._

“Holy shit.”

“There it is.”

“Holy _shit.”_

“Yep.”

“You're Captain America? _The_ Captain America?”

“Now we've got him.”

“Sam _Wilson_?”

“Yep.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Sam shrugged, looking down and shaking his head like he was trying to find the answer somewhere on the ground. “I don't know. Because I thought you would react like this? Because my job’s a lot easier when people don't know? Because I wanted to get to know you?” He looked at Bucky, a little helplessly and a whole lot cute and Bucky’s heart decided to skip a couple beats. 

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed before finally settling on, “okay.”

Sam stared back in disbelief. “Okay? Just like that?”

Bucky shrugged and gave him an easy smile. “Yeah. I really like you too Sam.”

Bucky would remember forever the way that Sam’s face lit up just then, brown eyes sparkling, the cutest grin overtaking his face. He didn't know how he really felt about his potential new boyfriend being the country's leading superhero but he would deal with that later. Right now he needed to kiss the adorable boy in front of him. So that's what he did. 

“God you're amazing,” Sam whispered as they separated. 

Bucky grinned, “yeah, yeah you can tell me all about it later. Go save the world, hot stuff.”

Sam grinned and leaned forward to kiss him again before turning to grab another bag out of the closet, this one significantly bigger and bulkier. Were those _wings?_

“Did you seriously not know?” Sam asked as he walked towards the front door. 

“Of course I didn't know!” Bucky called after him. “I don't memorize what all of the freaking _Avengers_ look like! There are like 50 of you guys now.” Sam shot out a laugh, loud and affectionate. “And when you're out there--you know, _fighting_ \--you always wear those stupid goggles! They completely hide your face.” 

“Well now that you know what my face looks like, are you disappointed?”

“Didn't I just call you hot stuff? And don't you have somewhere to be?”

“Just making sure my boyfriend lives in the same universe I do,” Sam said with a wink over his shoulder. 

“There are a lot of people named Sam!” Bucky called after him. 

Bucky was left with the enchanting sound of Sam’s laugh, echoing as he left the store, a bright and beautiful smile stretched across his face. Bucky would get him back for this. _In more ways than one_ , he thought happily. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/maggneto_)


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